


Stay Close to Me

by Teabunny



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Assertive Katsuki Yuuri, Caring Family, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Eventual Smut, First Time, Fluff, Hockey Player Otabek, Ice Skating, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Single Dad AU, Slow Burn, Supportive Dad, Wingman phichit, Yuri/Otabek Friendship, yuri!!! on ice - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:54:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teabunny/pseuds/Teabunny
Summary: A Single Dad AU. It had never been a mistake. At least, it didn’t feel that way to Viktor. It was what it was; a cursory exploration of passion and fervid lust for beauty. The occurrence started, and ended, when he was young… Mind and body still growing, insatiable curiosity abound, undoubtedly due to his sequestered circumstance; a brilliant affinity for skating with the ambition to match. That talent became pellucid to everyone around him by age 7. His parents, in vanity-laced excitement, dutifully placed him into the best programs. It was after years of these programs, at the age of 16 - with a stunted social presence and a refined, cut, and polished talent - that Viktor met her; a gifted dancer from Sweden, immigrated to Russia to bask in her Bolshoi Ballet acceptance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. ;; I'm a canon ho. I'm trying my best to deviate... So, instead of being a competitive skater, Yuuri only competes at local event and took up teaching younger kids how to skate with his best friend, Phichit. 
> 
> Let me know what you think so far! I have 10 chapters planned out and I'm really excited to actually be working on a fic again. It's been like.. 10 years since I've published anything. 
> 
> Hopefully you all have as many feelings as I do about Victor.
> 
> PS: The text conversation at the end includes Victor, Yakov, and Yuri's Grandpa.

* * *

 

It had never been a mistake. At least, it didn’t feel that way to Viktor. It was what it was; a cursory exploration of passion and fervid lust for beauty. The occurrence started, and ended, when he was young… Mind and body still growing, insatiable curiosity abound, undoubtedly due to his sequestered circumstance; a brilliant affinity for skating with the ambition to match. That talent became pellucid to everyone around him by age 7. His parents, in vanity-laced excitement, dutifully placed him into the best programs. It was after years of these programs, at the age of 16 - with a stunted social presence and a refined, cut, and polished talent - that Viktor met her; a gifted dancer from Sweden, immigrated to Russia to bask in her Bolshoi Ballet acceptance.

 “Du är vacker... _Beautiful._ ” she had whispered to him, thin fingers trailing through his long, silver hair. Their meetings existing solely in secrecy. Always alone in a training hall... No one else would ever hear her confession.

 She was 2 years his senior, established and experienced, just like him, but with a raw fanaticism for her craft that Viktor coveted. It didn’t help that her appearance was haunting, almost otherworldly, working with her talent to draw him in. Cropped, flaxen hair framed her dainty features. That delicacy was foiled by a pair of deep, searing blue eyes and crude, brazen personality.

 She was sharp where he was soft, and he soon found himself spiraling into aesthetic obsession. The feeling was mutual for a time, but Viktor soon realized that he had different attractions...

 It lasted a year mostly due to a sense of obligation on Viktor’s part. One year and their lives were forever altered.  She suffered far more losses than he did. In fact, she had likely lost everything.

 When Yuri was born her career became an intangible memory. She left only days later, few words spoken between them, yet an understanding had been formed that she had no interest in their child. Viktor harbored no ill will towards her. In truth, his feelings skirted on the verge of guilt. He had, in a sense, taken her livelihood. When it was all said and done circumstance had played in his favor. Not only had he been able gain a better understanding of his desires, but he also was able to keep, and strengthen, his career; now with the added gift of something more precious, and more empowering than anything he had ever experienced.

 

 

Throughout the years, Viktor held that tiny hand like a lifeline, coaxing Yuri through infancy and adolescence, both on and off the ice. The sound of skates scraping that cold surface was likely Yuri’s first cognizant memory. An overpowering combination of that star crossed couple’s perfections. He was practically born into skating. That beautiful boy was Viktor’s driving force. Pushing him to greatness and unknowingly assisting him in forever marring the history of competitive skating. During that 10 year period, Yakov (harboring a love for Viktor and Yuri that rivaled even family ties) and Yuri’s maternal Grandfather played their parts in Yuri’s upbringing.

Viktor always made sure Yuri knew he cared for him, even while away. Yuri had never expressed any vexation and had never doubted his father’s devotion. So, when Viktor retired at the age of 24 to dedicate his time solely to Yuri, no one was surprised. That dedication took them both to Detroit one year after Viktor’s retirement.

 

As it was, they had been in America for 4 years. Yuri was 12… 12 and bursting with charm. 

* * *

 

 

  * _This isn’t going to work. He’ll never like me and I don’t wanna deal with him calling me garbage ;(_



 Viktor reread the message displayed on his phone screen. As his mind worked to formulate a response, he slowly inhaled, held it, and exhaled a longsuffering sigh; frustration furrowing his brow.

  *   _ _He doesn’t mean it. Honest. We all went through that phase at his age, right? Besides, I’m sure it’s just his round-about way of telling you he likes you ~ <3__



 

His response was a blatant lie… Both participants in the conversation knew this. As Viktor waited for the next response, he slowly slid his fingers up through his hair to knot them at his crown. Why was he attempting to salvage this…?

Damn, he was desperate…

 

  * __Stay beautiful Viktor. Don’t change. If you ever need to have fun you know I’ll be there.__



 

 Viktor grimaced, visibly straining to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he skimmed over the text. At this point, it was a lost cause. He really couldn’t blame Christophe… Yuri had taken note early on that his ego was fragile. So fragile, in fact, that Yuri had been able to push Christophe nearly to tears the last time Viktor had attempted to have him over.

 This time Viktor didn’t respond. Instead, he dropped his phone to the table, signaling defeat. A stifled snicker soon escaped the one that sat across from him.  

 

“Thank god that’s over. He creeped me out.“ Yuri muttered triumphantly.

 

Viktor _almost_ laughed along with him. But that wouldn’t be effective parenting. Maybe one day he’d scold Yuri for his foul temper that reared when other men entered Viktor’s life--- but that day was not today. Instead, he smiled, resolving to finish their dinner on a pleasant note, knowing that Yuri only wanted the best for him.

* * *

 

Saturday - or the day that would be better known as Yuri’s slow descent to hell - Viktor attempted to wake him by bursting through his door; a goofy, over enthusiastic smile plastered on his face and Makkachin in tow.

 “ _Yurochkaaaa_ ~ !!“ he trilled, not bothering to wait for a response before launching himself onto the bed with little regard for the small body he was now cruelly crushing beneath him. His face was pressed against his son’s cheek, and his arms slowly began to constrict around the lithe form that remained covered by blankets. At first, he felt only squirming. Then, slowly but surely, the sound of a dull muffled scream began to rise. Before too long Yuri was shrieking, moveable limbs flailing beneath the cover, a movement that was not missed by Makkachin, who then took it upon himself to kill ‘the beast’ under Yuri’s blanket.

“I can’t believe I’m homeless. I can’t believe I no longer have a father. He’s dead. I can’t believe my father was _murdered._ ” Yuri growled, tone flat, eyes still heavy with sleep ans mouth now pursed into a fine line.

Viktor only hugged tighter. Luckily, Yuri’s legs had stopped thrashing so Makkachin, believing he had solved every problem, now sprawled across Yuri’s limbs at the foot of the bed.

“ Shhh shh shh--- Nonsense. “ Viktor said with a smile, still cheek to cheek with his pessimistic youngster.

“ This is your first day of participation in the true American skating experience! You will make me so proud!”

 

 

Now that that was over it didn’t take long for the morning to improve once Yuri had gotten out of bed. Viktor had breakfast made for him, just as he usually did. Yuri was contended by the gesture and, by the time he finished, was happily informing his father about all the things Yakov had been allowing him to practice. Viktor could barely contain his pride, hanging on Yuri’s every word, silently encouraging him to give even the smallest of details.

“He said if I keep doing what I’m doing, I’ll be able to move on to advanced  jumps!”

  
He paused, eyes narrowing, enthusiasm fading and exasperation taking it’s place.

“Dad.” He groaned. “Dad stop--- What the hell. Stop crying.”

Embarrassment finally boiled over.

“Dad!!”

With that outburst, Yuri ground his teeth, pushed back from the table, stood, and walked out the door. Viktor burst into tearful laughter as his son stomped out, lingering behind to grab both of their coats and  Yuri’s equipment bag before following.

 

 

Yuri was still pouting on the way to the rink, shooting his father nauseated side-long glances.

“You’re not staying for the practice, are you?” Yuri asked, mouth cocked in a scowl, cheeks puffed, clearly wanting to be recalcitrant.

Victor snorted, knowing full well that his choice not to answer would only fuel Yuri’s embarrassment. He heard a sharp inhale. Yuri was now bright red, hands balled into fists on his lap.

“Dad. I swear to god... if you get on the ice I will put myself up for adoption.”

 

Viktor smiled. “I won’t do that. And, if we get there and you decide you don’t want me to stay, I’ll leave. I promise.” As he made that vow he allowed his eyes to wander from the road to better gauge his son’s reaction. Yuri seemed to relax at his words. Though Yuri would deny this, Viktor knew that as soon as they stepped into that rink, the tune would change.

 Once they finally arrived and entered the building… Just as predicted, Yuri hugged close to his side; one arm wound around his father’s, a scowl still slapped on his face.

 The rink was rather large. Far larger than any Viktor remembered practicing on back home. On the ice there were a slew of small children, most likely ranging in age from 8 to 12, all skating in slow circles around the rink with, what he assumed was one of their instructors, in the middle, clearly monitoring them to make sure no one sustained an injury.

 Nearing the entrance to the ice Viktor stopped. Yuri had gone rigid at his side. Panic began to rise in the older man. He knew what was coming and attempted to prepare himself for the storm.

“They are **babies**.” Yuri spat.

 

“What?! No.. They are definitely your age. Well --” He cleared his throat, now attempting to tug his arm out of Yuri’s grip. “Some of them are….”

 Yuri was deadly silent at his side now. Viktor attempted to fill that silence with an awkward chuckle while he struggled to wiggle his arm free, but Yuri denied his escape. Taking the lead, the younger of the two stomped the remaining distance with his father in tow. Once they neared the skaters entrance a few children glanced over in their direction.

“Go home!! I don’t need you embarrassing me! Practice will be over in 2 hours.”

 

Recoiling from his son’s venomous tone, Viktor sniffed, lower lip quivering only slightly as he struggled to take the hint that it was time for him to leave. However, when he tried, Yuri only gripped his hand tighter.

Oh. _Ohh_.

Viktor softened, seeing the utter, undeniable distress that burned in Yuri’s eyes. He was practically begging him, in soundless desperation to _stay close._ But Yuri couldn’t say that out loud, oh no. He had to stake his claim as the toughest, strongest, most competent skater. A skater that didn’t need his dad sitting around to cheer him on. Viktor wouldn’t ruin it for him, he’d dutifully play along. Squeezing his son’s hand he backed off, making his way around the rink and out the doors. There was likely a scoreboard operators booth somewhere. He just had to find it. That way, he would be out of sight, but still close enough to keep a watchful eye.

* * *

 

 

 

The Beginner Level Synchronized Detroit Skaters Club practice was about to start. Yuri, who had taken it upon himself to show up every other member, continued to skate, jump, and spin circles around the lesser children, even as the Instructor whistled to signal their start.

 “Everyone ~!” The instructor chimed. That one single word had been enough to project the warmth that burst from every facet of this young man’s personality. The team, Yuri included, was instantly drawn to him. He was tall with dark hair, tawny skin, and cheeks that seemed to be touched with a constant tinge of pink. Clustering around him, they all waited further instruction.

 “Okay, okay! We are about to start your first day as a synchronized skating team! I am your coach--- Err.” He paused, glancing around somewhat nervously.

 “One of your coaches.” He corrected with a self-assured nod. “You will meet my partner tomorrow! But, before we begin, I want everyone to tell me their name, age, and something they really like!”

A majority of the kids were enthused, nodding along with the idea, eager to make friends. Yuri, however, was sizing them up; puffing his chest, standing straight, and over exaggerating a scoff at the ridiculous suggestion.

“Okay okay~ I’ll start.” The taller man gazed around him, hoping to encourage a few more smiles. “Hello! I am Phichit. I am retired skater from Thailand! I am 21 and I really like hamsters!” His spirit was contagious, and soon the rest of his troupe was declaring their names, ages, and favorite things. Yuri paid little attention to the younger members, that was until a kid - a kid that Yuri judged as 12 or 13 - proclaimed that he wasn’t 13 -- Oh no. He was 10. This boy was 10 years old and almost 4 inches taller than Yuri.

 

Not only was Yuri one of the shortest, he was one of the oldest.

 

Aside from the freakish youngster, there were a handful of others that caught Yuri’s attention. He had noticed them during practice.  They weren’t quite as good as him, but the all showed decent potential. Their names were Leo, Minami, and Guang-Hong-- Or Ji, for short. Leo and Ji were both a whole year older than Yuri while Minami was a year younger. As the confessionals continued to sound off, Yuri could feel himself easing off his narcissistic high. However, he didn’t deflate entirely. It was his turn now.

 

“I’m Yuri. Yuri Nikiforov. And I like being better than all of _you_. “

 

A hush fell over the group. Yuri crossed his arms, a smug smile pulling his lips.

 

Suddenly, a small clap started from his right. Dumbstruck, Yuri jerked towards the direction of the sound. Minami had started it, staring at Yuri with an emotion that could only be described as infatuation. Slowly but surely the other kids joined in the applause; even Phichit was cheering now.

 

“Ehhhh?” Yuri scoffed, head fervently turning from side to side, taking silent note of all the smiles. With each new one he noticed his cheeks burned a brighter red. By the time the clapping had stopped, Yuri was practically steaming. Phichit beamed back at him.

“I’m so glad you’re confident! I saw you practicing earlier. If you keep it up you’ll do so well! I’m very proud you wanted to join our team! Welcome Yuri!”

 

“Yeah, Yuri!! You’re so cool!” the others confessed.

 

Yuri’s descent had been halted. The unanticipated acceptance washed over him like a flood. He was practically drowning in happiness. 

* * *

 

Observing from his hidden spot above the rink, Viktor snapped several more pictures as the practice began to near its close.

 

 **Виктор Никифоров** : *32 Images attached* Our Yuri!!

 

 **Яков Фельцман** : Excellent. He is enjoying his first day.

 

 **Виктор Никифоров** : Yes yes! Ahhhh ~ They love him.

 

 **Дедушка** : As they should. Take more, Vitya. I will print and hang them on my fridge.

 

Viktor closed the conversation to create a post - pictures included - on all various forms of his social media.

  
He finished just in time. Practice was ending in 5 minutes. Things, from his view, seemed to have gone well, so he assumed Yuri would tolerate him heading down early to observe those final moments up close. He made his way out of the control room, down the stairs, and through the walkway that lead him into the rink. The brisk air that greeted him was familiar, almost comforting. He inhaled deeply, savoring the way the air seemed to burn in his lungs, and stopped just outside the skaters entrance; now in full view of everyone on the ice.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Phichit’s attention had been drawn, like a moth to a flame, to the other man that had just made his way over to the rinks edge. To him, that silver hair had caught the fluorescent lighting like a beacon, causing everything else in his periphery to become a muted blurr.  _Could it be?_ He found himself thinking, mind reeling back to when one of the students had claimed the surname ‘Nikiforov’.

 Nikiforov. _Nikiforov._ **_The_ ** Nikiforov!? The thought had crossed his mind earlier, but in the hopes to avoid a potentially awkward outburst, he had put a lid on the impulse to ask who the boy’s father was.

 ‘Viktor!’ Phichit whispered, mostly to himself - or so he thought. However, that wasn’t the case. He had clapped his hands over his face and almost toppled over three young skaters in the last 3 minutes, so the kids knew something was happening. They all watched him, carefully avoiding his path as he continued to skate before slowly losing momentum near the middle of the rink.

 Forcing down a lump in his throat, he clapped his still shaking hands. He looked as if he were about to burst.

 “Haaahaha.. Okay, everyone ~! P-Practice is over and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Remember that we’ll have my partner. An.. And don’t forget that practice is at the same time tomorrow but come Monday you guys won’t wanna get here until 5!”

 Even before the end of that, he was breathless, a blush blooming across his cheeks. The kids, for the most part, ignored it and began to make their way over to the parents that had began to file in around the ice.

 Viktor was still there, standing with his weight supported by the wall, chin propped in hand.

 Phichit began fumbling to get his phone out of his pants pocket.

 

* * *

 

Viktor was incapable of giving attention to anyone other than his son. Especially at this moment. Yuri was _smiling._ It seems that he had stuck behind on the ice for a few minutes to talk to a group of other skaters. Viktor could hardly ignore the impulse to run out and praise his child for a job well done. But, if he did, he’d likely have to deal with a week of Yuri giving him the silent treatment. However, there was a solution. He could talk to the parent’s of those children, instead! That way, he’d be able to insure his Yuri would be able to spend time around his new friends outside of practice.

  _Perfect._ He smiled to himself, eyes wide with wonder at both his son, and his idea. He had to congratulate himself on this one.

 Yuri was now beginning to make his way over to his father. Realizing he had likely been watching, due to the fact that Viktor was now exuberantly waving from his spot off the ice.

 “ _Yurochkaaaa_ ~ “ Viktor began to call. Yuri was drawing closer, and he could see a scowl, as well as a blush, transforming that previously happy expression. But, before he could get a proper look at his son, another figure blocked his path.

 Blinking, Viktor adjusted his gaze to fix on the one that now stood only a few inches away from him.

 “Ah! You are Yuri’s coach, yes?” Viktor asked, standing to his full height, flashing an engaging smile.

 Phichit didn’t seem to hear him, or at least he didn’t respond as  if he had. No words came out, but his jaw slowly began to drop, causing his lips to form a small ‘o’ shape.

 Viktor continued to smile but was beginning to wonder if there was something on his face.

_Was there...?_

 “Viktor!!” Phichit finally cried, eyes practically brimming with tears, his phone thrust up between them. “I watched all of your competitions! I-I am one of your biggest fans! I cannot believe you are here!! And your son? He is so talented! I am so glad. I love him! Will you take a selfie with me!?”

 Viktor’s expression immediately lifted; dazzling smile at full force.

 “Ahhh~OK! We will take a selfie with your phone and then one with mine?”  Viktor looked almost childlike now, eyes wide and alight with excitement and admiration. “Add me on Instagram~!?” He pleaded, taking a pose beside Phichit as the other began to prepare for the shot.

 By the time Yuri slid in closer, his father had taken 7 selfies, exchanged both phone numbers and instagrams, and was now informing Phichit of “how nervous his Yuri had been before they arrived”.

 Yuri simply stared, jaw clenched and hard with mortification.

 “Что ебать…! _”_  (what the fuck) Yuri seethed, bright red now fully bloomed across his cheeks.

 “Yuri~!” Both Viktor and Phichit called

“Come get in the picture!”

 

* * *

 

 

Yuri had been angry, of course. Viktor had expected as much. Even as they drove home Yuri continued to brood. His father could only smile, soon reaching across to rustle his fingers through that sleek blonde hair.

 Yuri groaned and swatted his hands away. However, there was a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

 The sun set earlier in the day now, so by the time they got home, it was dark. Gathering the equipment out of the car, Viktor followed Yuri up the path to their home in silence. He was still smiling, unable to extinguish the the near overwhelming sense of pride. ‘ _He’s so happy.’_ He texted his former mentor. _‘I can see it. They want to be around him. They love him, Yakov. Just like I knew they would. How did I get so lucky?’_

 ' _You raised him well, Vitya’_ Yakov responded. ‘ _He is also lucky to have you.’_

 Yuri had always had a tough time making friends. Especially at school. He simply had different interests than the rest of those in his age group. He was already so disciplined; able to juggle a school schedule with practice. Most kids his age could barely handle one..

 This new skating team seemed that it would be Yuri’s saving grace.

 Yuri didn’t bother to linger in the main living space once they had settled in at home. So, while he wandered off too his room, Viktor started dinner.

 However, it wasn’t long before Yuri snuck up behind him, announcing his presence with a heavy sigh as he tightly wrapped his arms around Viktor’s middle.

 A slow smile crept across Viktor’s face. He waited, knowing that if he said anything too early, Yuri may change his mind on wanting to be near him.

 The waiting paid off and soon his son hugged him tighter.

 “Thanks.. “ Yuri murmured. Viktor could practically hear the fervor in his voice.

 Before Yuri said anything else he adjusted his position and buried his face in the curve of Viktor’s back, trying his best to muffle the words that were about to be said.

 “.... Love you. “

 That was it. Viktor couldn’t take it. He placed the knife he had been using to cut vegetables on the counter and turned to hurriedly scoop up his son. It was almost as if he didn’t do it at that exact moment, time would pass too quickly and he’d miss the opportunity to reciprocate the confession.

 Yuri let out a groan to give the impression that he was irked, but as soon as Viktor lifted him up he latched both arms and legs around his father to insure the embrace lasted a little while longer. Gently petting a hand through Yuri’s hair, Viktor laughed…

 

“ I love you, too, Yuri ~”

 

* * *

 

 

Nestled comfortably into the couch in Phichit’s apartment, Yuuri sipped at the drink his friend had given him. Phichit had invited him over in the hopes that they would be able to talk about the events of the first day’s practices, but Phichit was busy in a skype call with his significant other...  

 Yuuri glanced over to the chair at his right, where Phichit sat, jabbering away to his partner.The most mundane events sounded like grand adventures when Phichit described them to his partner; giving a detailed, minute by minute breakdown of the last 36 hours.

 As it was, the call had lasted 3 hours, or, the entirety of the time Yuuri had been occupying his apartment.

 “Okay, okay ~ I love you! Oh! Say bye to Yuuri! “

 Before Yuuri could even respond, the active phone was pushed a mere three inches from his face. Suddenly forced to remember how his voice worked, he fumbled with his words only to sputter out ‘goodbye’ no less than 4 times before Phichit took pity on him and averted the camera’s gaze.

 Phichit blew several more kisses before reluctantly ending the call and giving Yuuri his now undivided attention accompanied with a smile.

 “Sorry about that! I wanted them to see you! They miss you.”

 Yuuri flushed, a habitual reaction to this type of conversation.

 “They’ve only been gone two days…”

 “I knowwwwww.. “ Phichit practically whined, throwing himself off the chair and onto the couch next to Yuuri. “It feels like forever!”

 “B-But they live here.. With you... “ Yuuri pointed out, trying his best to be helpful.

 “I know.. “ Phichit breathed a wistful sigh. He was clearly elsewhere. Yuuri gave him the appropriate time to linger in what was likely an affectionate memory.

 “Did anything bad happen today? Are the kids nice?” He finally queried, reaching out to give a sympathetic pat to Phichit’s shoulder.

 This new conversation topic piqued Phichit’s spirits almost instantaneously.

 “The kids are so good! But! Most importantly.. The dad. Yuuri! _THE_ dad. H-He’s perfect! I can’t believe his son is on our team! It’s Viktor, Yuuri!” By this time, Phichit had practically yanked Yuuri into a crushing embrace.

 “I’ve wanted to meet him for so long…. “ Phichit professed, reaching back over towards the chair he had previously been in to retrieve his phone. “Look! I even got pictures~”

 Once Phichit had the snapshots pulled up Yuuri stared for a moment then eventually resigning to just nodding along in feigned enthusiasm. He couldn’t, for the life of him, understand why Phichit was so happy to get pictures with what seemed to be an overly involved skating parent.  

 

He _was_ relatively easy to look at, though...

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry. I have no chill. 
> 
> I really appreciate all of the praise thus far! Yuuri will be an actual participant in chapter 3 and I'm so excited to start getting into his character. 
> 
> PS: I'm super sorry for the inconsistency in the spelling of Viktor/Victor. @-@ I don't know. I'm going off the wikia for most of it. 
> 
> Anyways, hopefully I'll be able to update more soon! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Victor!!  
> (And Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas to all of you)
> 
> So. I was working on this chapter for awhile, and am very happy I was actually able to publish it on Victor's birthday. But in order to keep pacing I had to make it much, muchhh longer than the others. Hopefully that's alright! 
> 
> Small note: I edited Victor's name in this chapter to match the tags on this website. I'll probably go back and fix it in previous chapters but I'm not sure yet.
> 
> Like I said, Yuuri is a much bigger part of this chapter! 
> 
> Anyways, comments and kudos are super appreciated. I've really enjoyed the feedback!

Unlike the morning before, Yuri was up with Victor, excitement negating his archetypal anti-morning attitude. Having something to look forward to was a formidable force, and Yuri was already altered for the better. Victor started breakfast while Yuri flipped through a few unread texts on his phone.

 

“Ugh.. You sent these to grandpa? And Yakov? Dad-- It’s on your facebook!?”

 

Yuri’s cheeks puffed, nose wrinkling in a display of irritation. However, the protest seemed to stop there. He couldn’t be angry, or even feign it,  when all of the words accompanying the pictures were brimming with everyone’s affections. Tapping out an appreciative message to his Grandfather and Yakov, he then sat his phone down on the table to hide his reddening face in his hands. No more than a few moments later, Victor placed a plate down in front of him, rustlings fingers through that blonde hair before joining him at the table.

 

“You’ll be practicing formations today. Are you excited?” A sly query. Victor knew Yuri was excited.

 

Peeking through his fingers, Yuri glanced down at the plate that had been sat in front of him. Eggs and Waffles… A still hidden smile broke out across his face. He remembered back to when his dad first learned to start making them. He had explained that he had had waffles for the first time while traveling and fell in love with them. Unfortunately they weren’t particularly popular in Russia, but Victor had continued to enjoy them, anyways. Now, they were Yuri’s favorite breakfast food…

 

“Yeah ~” Yuri finally admitted with a nod, taking the first fork full of his breakfast.

 

Victor smiled.

 

“Good.”

 

* * *

 

They arrived at practice a little early, but so did a handful of the other team members. As soon as they walked through the doors, Yuri was greeted by a group of his fellow skaters.

 

“Yuri!!” One of them gasped, frantically waving from where he stood with the other two. “We’ve been waiting for you! Walk in with us?”

 

To Victor, this enthusiastic boy seemed like the perfect friend, but then again so did the other two boys that were standing with them. The one who had called out was shortest of the group - Yuri included - and had a riotous head of blonde and red hair. The other two seemed shy, but the tallest - a boy with warmly toned pale skin and chin length brown hair - eventually starred waving at Yuri as well.

 

Turning towards Victor, Yuri shot him a look that would hopefully be understood. He still wanted him to stay; he needed to watch the practice, but right now Yuri wanted to head in without him. Holding his hand out for the equipment bag his father carried, he flashed a faint smile.

 

“See you after practice.”

 

“Okay. Have fun.” Victor’s face was practically glowing.

 

Shouldering the bag Yuri turned to head towards the group that waited for him. Victor didn’t miss a beat. His phone was out almost as soon as Yuri turned his back. However, Yuri, knowing the type of person his father was, lifted his hand - back still towards him;  middle finger extended.

 

Victor could practically picture the scowl that was likely etched across Yuri’s face. He inserted the recent photo into his group conversation.

 

 **Дедушка** : Vitya.. I cannot put that on my fridge.

 

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, he lingered in the main entrance for a few moments longer. Every rink, to him, whether he had been in it or not, felt achingly familiar. He had been in these places all his life. He felt more at home on the ice than he did anywhere else… How lucky he was that his son shared a similar interest, allowing him to be in these places even though his career had ended.

 

Pulling himself back from the solace of self reflection he checked his watch. Practice had already started, so he made his way into the stands. Luckily, he wasn’t the only parent present, so through a bit of pleasant chatter, he was able to learn the names of the 3 boys Yuri had joined earlier. Minami was the boisterous blonde, Leo was the taller brunette, and Ji was the timid one.

 

“I’m glad my son met yours. “ He said to each of the parents while taking a seat near them; a genuine smile stuck to his face that reiterated just how earnestly he meant that.

 

While the team started their stretching, Victor lent a hand in planning out group events that would allow the buddings of friendship to bloom outside of practice.

 

He couldn’t be happier with how Yuri was beginning to fit in.

 

* * *

 

 

Just as promised, Phichit wasn’t alone this time. As the skaters stretched at the barriers of the rink, he called for their attention.

 

“Everyone!” He started happily. “This is Yuuri! Yuuri Katsuki. He is also a former skater. Err.. Well. He still skates locally! He’s very sorry he couldn’t be here yesterday, but don’t worry.. I told him about everyone and how well you’re already doing!“

 

Yuuri flushed..

 

Clearing his throat, he gave a small wave and a quick bow “Hello. Phichit already told me about you, and was sure to inform me that we already have another Yuri... To avoid confusion, you can just call me Yuuri-san.”

 

His voice was suddenly caught. All the kids were staring at him, wide eyed and beaming smiles. Attempting to dampen the heat that was rising in his chest, he let out a breath.

 

“Typically, in Japan, when referring to someone older than you, or someone with an assumed position of authority, you give them the honorific ‘san’. Hopefully that makes sense to everyone.” Checking his nerves he stopped himself from continuing on any longer than necessary. He tended to prattle on when he got uncomfortable.  

 

“Yuuri-senpai!!” Minami teased, practically wiggling from where he stood on the ice. At some point, in passing conversation before practice had started, Minami mentioned that the new coach was from his hometown and was someone he deeply admired in the figure skating scene.

 

Yuri didn’t particularly care. This Yuuri wasn’t threatening. He was tall, a little timid, and wore glasses. But the kind smile that seemed to be ever present on his face encouraged trust and Yuri kinda liked him… In truth, he was just glad that he wasn’t the one forced to adopt some undesirable nickname.

 

* * *

 

 Practice had progressed a considerable amount, excluding the handful of times two or more children had collided while skating formations, before all hell broke lose. Phichit and Yuuri were working in smaller groups, carefully coaxing the kids to avoid collisions, when a sudden burst of 6, fully geared hockey players, sliced across the ice.

 

Stricken with sudden panic, Yuuri - attempting to take control while Phichit flirted with the brink of a nervous meltdown - frantically searched for the adult responsible for the sudden invasion. Several children had already fallen in an attempt to avoid the speed of the new additions, and it was only going to get worse if they didn’t wrangle the threat in soon.

 

“Hey!” Yuuri called, skating with frantic speed towards the woman that stood, arms crossed, at the skater’s entrance.

 

“W-We have the rink for the next 2 hours.. I thought we discussed this with the owners.” He was trying his best to be polite, but emotions were rising and kids were yelling.

 

Ignoring Yuuri’s obvious discomfort the woman only scoffed. “Yeah, well we missed our practice time yesterday. They can share the ice. Look. It’s fine. Just tell your kids to get out of the way.”

 

It wasn’t fine.

 

The sound of blades scraping across the ice with unnecessary force wrecked through him like a tremor. He knew that sound. Both he, and Phichit, had been on the receiving end of a hockey stop; the only maneuver that could have produced that sound. Yuuri turned his back on the woman to scan the practice area for the incident he had feared would happen.

 

Phichit had managed to get most of their team safely to the sides. While the younger members of their group watched the hockey players with untainted awe from behind Phichit, a few of the older ones stood off near the middle. Some distance away from the that group, Yuuri finally spotted what he was looking for; Yuri, covered in bits of shaved ice, toe to toe with an imposing hockey skater.

 

The tension was palpable.

 

As it continued to get more heated a few of the other players began to surround them, and Yuuri, blind with worry, followed.

 

“Fucking pansy.” The instigating hockey player spat. He was nearly 2 feet taller than Yuri and probably had 50 pounds on him. “What are you gonna’ do?”

 

Heady with anger, Yuri stabbed a finger at the at the boy’s chest.

 

“Да? Я закончу вас! отвяжись!” (Yeah? _I’ll finish you! Fuck off!_ _)_ English had failed him. His mind was so fogged he temporarily lacked the capacity to string the threat together in his second language.

 

Scoffing and glancing around him in an attempt to garner the support of his peers, the hockey player pushed back.

 

“The hell is that supposed to mean? Get off our ice. I wouldn’t want to break you.”

 

Gingerly attempting to part the crowd, Yuuri tried his best to catch their attention.

“H-hey! Look, we can just.. Split the rink! Please don’t yell... ” No one turned to look at him. However, unbeknownst to him, another hockey player and slid up to join the small crowd after him.

 

“Guys---” he began to plead, but before he could finish, Yuri’s fist smashed into the hockey player's jaw. The impact seemed hard, but the taller boy hardly staggered, in fact, it seemed to have only surprised him, as well as the rest of the gathered crowd.

 

Yuuri paled, tentatively reaching out towards younger Yuri, but another body had pushed passed him to disrupt the stand off.

 

“Hey.” the tall, unfamiliar skater scolded, palm flat against his teammates chest to urge him back.

 

Yuuri seized the opportunity to break up the congregation of bystanding skaters.

“Okaaaay. Let’s all back up! Everything is okay...” he chimed, waving his his arms in the hopes they would disperse. When they inevitably did, he quickly rushed back to the sidelines in an attempt to smooth things over with the hockey organizer.

 

Everything had gone quiet. The hockey player that stood in the way was one to speak. “Stop trying to show off. They have to practice, too. Leave em’ alone.”

 

The demand powerful, nothing else was said between them. Muttering under his breath the clearly scolded skater slowly slid back. Yuri, insistent on adding insult to injury, flipped the retreating cause of the fight off. Any normal person would have stuck around to thank the one who had effectively ended the confrontation, but in Yuri’s mind, he handled everything perfectly well on his own. As he started to drift back to his side of the rink, the other male turned towards him.

 

“Ты в порядке?” (Are you okay?) He asked, a sudden softness to his voice.

 

Yuri stopped so abruptly that he almost fell. Had he heard that correctly? Nothing ever seemed to comfort him more than being able to speak, and have someone respond, in his native language. Entranced, he slowly drifted back towards the other boy.

 

“Я сейчас.” (I am now) It took everything Yuri had to stop the heated tears that were threatening to brim in his eyes. His heart was still pounding. He was slowly coming off the peak of his adrenaline. _He had never hit anyone before_ … For a moment, he felt the urge to hug the other boy. However, he didn’t act on it.

 

“Хорошо.” (Good.) The taller of the two murmured back, a gentle smile transforming otherwise stoic features. He stuck out his hand.

 

“Otabek.” He stated plainly.

 

Yuri looked him up and down before slowly reaching out a hand to complete the gesture.

 

“Yuri.”

 

“Yuri. “ Otabek repeated. “Теперь мы друзья?” (Now we are friends?)

 

Yuri nodded.

 

* * *

 

 

Victor wasn’t happy. However, worry buried his anger as he strode towards Yuri’s new coach and the woman who was attempting blame for the incident.

 

“You’re lucky that boy didn’t hurt him. We’d have a real issue then.”

 

Yuuri was silent as she continued to berate him; lips screwed into a frown. “I was trying to warn you. Your skater started it… “ He finally interrupted.

 

“I told you to get them out of the way! That boy should have backed off. He could have seriously hurt Yuri. Stopping like that so close to someone is dangerous! ”

 

“As I saw it, your skaters threatened and knocked over several of ours. That’s a handful of possibilities for injury. But you’re right, it’s fortunate no one was actually hurt... I’ll take responsibility for my son’s actions. But, now that it’s over, let’s just agree to keep them separated? “ Victor’s interjection hadn’t been expected, so both Yuuri and the woman now turned to look at him. He smiled back at the woman but the expression wasn’t meant to be friendly.  

 

“Damn right you will take responsibility. I’ll be speaking to your league’s organizer. Stick to your side of the ice.” The woman finally snapped, pushing past Victor to make her way over to the other end of the rink. As she left, Yuuri’s eyes followed her until they met with Victor’s.

 

“I’m sorry.. “ Yuuri murmured almost reflexively; his lips pulling into a glazed, despondent smile.

 

Victor shook his head, features already softened. This poor man looked shaken.

 

“Don’t. I should be the one apologizing. Yuri has a temper. Luckily, I never really taught him how to throw a proper punch.” He laughed. The undercurrent of humor seemed to work in lifting Yuuri, and Victor, suddenly driven by his growing smile, leaned in a little closer.

 

“Yuuri, right?” His hand had found a spot to rest near Yuuri’s on the wall.

 

“Y-Yes! And you’re Victor. Phichit.. Mentioned you to me yesterday. I’m sorry. I know it might get a little confusing. Your son is Yuri.. I’m Yuuri..” He stopped, gaze leaving Victor’s and dropping to the wall between them. _Was he getting closer?_

 

“I have no complaints. Clearly, I like the name.” Victor responded playfully which only confused Yuuri further. _He’s just being friendly…?_

 

Flustered, Yuuri couldn’t help the small, nervous laugh that escaped. His sense of steadiness had already been wrecked by the previously hostile conversation. And, it didn’t help that he felt like he had seen this man before. Phichit’s pictures excluded. He couldn’t place it, but there was something extremely familiar about him…

 

“T-Thank you. My mom picked it.” he finally responded, only to silently criticize himself for the added bit about his mother.

 

“Yuuri!” Phichit called from across the ice “Ready to get started again?”

 

Ripped from the moment, Yuuri blinked as he stared at Victor, eventually reaching up to shift his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Sorry -- I-I mean, I’ll be right back.. No. I don’t mean that. I need to go help with practice.”

 

Victor nodded. “I’ll be watching~”

 

“Okay.” Yuuri forgot to breath, finally turning his back on Victor to slowly skate towards his partner.

 

* * *

 

 Practice had ended, and eventually Yuri made his way into the stands to meet his dad.

 

“I have a friend coming over tomorrow for dinner.”

 

Victor, for what was likely only the second or third time in his life, was speechless. “Yuri.. “ he tried to gasp, eyes shining and full of astonishment.

 

Trying his best to ignore his father’s reaction he continued. “And we’re staying after to watch Phichit and Yuuri skate. ”

 

“Okay, okay~” Victor chimed, not wanting to pry to hard into the details of the dinner arrangements. “I’m glad you’re wanting to watch your coaches. Sometimes, it’s the best way to learn. And...” He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I'm always around to teach you, too." 

 

“Dad.. “ Yuri murmured, suddenly self-conscious. There was something about being compared to his father that squashed a great deal of his confidence. They had talked about it several times before, and Yuri had finally confessed that he didn’t feel that he was good enough, that he would never be able to meet everyone’s expectations.

 

But Yuri had already surpassed all of Victor’s.

 

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have mentioned it...” Victor voiced was purled with understanding. “But at your age, I only had half your talent.. Not to mention skating was never my choice. You love what you do. I never really did. I did it mostly because it was what was expected of me. Then, when you were there, I wanted to be good for you. You were always so proud when I won. You told everybody…”

 

Yuri laughed and so did Victor.

 

“You’re worlds ahead of me. You already have your drive… I didn’t. Sometimes all that drive needs to burn is someone to believe in it.”

 

With a wistful sigh, Victor pressed a palm to his forehead, fingers knotting in his hair. After a moment of silence he laughed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get swept with emotion. The point is you have talent, you have drive, and you have people that can teach you. So, I’m just glad you actually want to watch them.”

 

“You’re the worst at giving inspirational talks.” Yuri teased, and Victor rolled his eyes.

 

“And the worst at teaching you how to fight. I wonder if that’s something that’s required by parents… I’m really am failing.”

 

As they waited for Yuuri and Phichit they continued to joke about Victor’s supposed shortcomings as a father. It lasted a few more minutes before Yuri finally spotted his coaches. Falling silent next to his father, he waved once he saw Phichit scanning the stands; Phichit waved back.

 

However, Yuuri didn’t seem to acknowledge any other presence. His expression was absent as he drifted across the ice behind Phichit.

 

“Did you know Phichit got bronze at the Grand Prix finale?” Yuri quizzed with pride.

 

There was no response.

 

“Dad.” Yuri scolded, finally turning towards his father.

 

Victor was leaning out of his seat, eyes fixed on the ice, knuckles pressed to his lips. Not even a nudge to his arm was enough to pull him back.

 

“Dad!” Yuri hissed, giving him a less subtle shove.

 

“That’s nice… “ he finally breathed; his gaze still hadn’t left the ice. “Yuuri competes, right?”

 

“What? How the hell should I know. Phichit just said he did local competitions…“

 

“Why..” Victor murmured quietly, mostly to himself.

 

“Why?” Yuri blinked, dumbfounded by his father’s sudden shift in mood. “What do you mean why?”

 

Again, no response. By this time, Victor had propped his elbow on his knee. Yuri couldn’t quite decipher that half hidden expression, but the fixation was enough to alert him to something more…

 

Leaving it for the moment, Yuri turned his attention back to the ice. Yuuri was skating a spread eagle around the rim of the rink.

 

 _‘Okay, so what. Almost anyone can do that’._ He found himself thinking. Phichit had been practicing jumps. Those were way more impressive.

 

In the moment that Yuri had averted his attention from the other Yuuri, the elder had attempted a camel spin far too close to the wall and smacked his face into it.

 

“Holy crap.” Yuri sputtered, worry coloring his tone. How do you even do that?

 

Without warning, Victor stood next to him to lean over the railing in front of them. In a movement just as abrupt as the first, he was heading towards the stairs that led down toward the rink. However, as he reached the entrance to the ice he stopped.

 

Phichit had rushed to Yuuri almost as soon as the accident had happened. Luckily he was still standing despite his nose now dripping with blood. Phichit steadied him, gently patting his palms to Yuri’s face before tipping his head back in an attempt to examine if his nose was broken. Luckily, as far as Victor could see, it wasn’t… Winding an arm around the embarrassed skater, Phichit slowly led him to the entrance opposite of where Victor stood, urging Yuri to sit on the bench.

 

Victor could feel something knotting inside of him as he watched Phichit carefully dab under Yuuri’s nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

 

The tender intimacy of the moment was staggering. There was no doubt now they were together. How had he not seen it?

 

Feeling a fool, he smiled, laughing at his now recognizable budding feelings. He had always been drawn to passion, and Yuuri had it; buried, boundless amounts of passion. Watching him skate had made that exceedingly obvious and had left Victor feeling like he needed to know more; more about what he cared about… more about him as a whole.

 

He felt a prod to his spine. “You ready to go? They probably won’t skate any more after that.. I still don’t understand how that even happened. How does someone manage to smash their face into the wall?”

 

Responding with nothing more than a smile, Victor motioned for Yuri to lead the way out of the rink, stopping to grab his equipment back on their way out.

 

On the drive home, Victor had pushed past his disappointment. Yuri was excited and when that happened it was hard for him to feel anything other than happiness. He was informed that the dinner they were going to be having tomorrow had to be good; it had to be pirozhki.

 

“This friend must be important” Victor finally interrupted with a laugh.

 

“What? Yeah! So what... He’s never had pirozhki. I told him it was good and that it was my favorite and he said he wanted to try it. You have Grandpa’s recipe so you can’t mess it up.”

 

“Okay, okay ~” Victor said, lifting his hands off the wheel in a feigned display of surrender. They had already parked in the drive of their home.

 

“Pirozhki it is.”

 

* * *

 

 

After dinner, Yuri had taken over the couch to watch cartoons. Heading upstairs, Victor, and Makkachin, decided to sprawl out on his bed. It was practically evening tradition. Pulling out his phone, he checked his various social media accounts. When he finally got around to facebook he noticed two friend requests awaiting his acceptance.

 

Blinking, he stared at the names: Phichit Chulanont and Yuuri Katsuki.

 

At first, it was only the names that surprised him, but upon further examination after accepting them, Victor noticed something in Phichit’s profile picture.

 

He was kissing someone. Someone that _wasn’t_ Yuuri Katsuki…

 

“Really…?” he breathed aloud, switching to Yuuri’s profile to confirm the revelation.

 

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**Age: 24**

**Hometown: Hasetsu, Japan**

**Relationship status: Single**

 

Victor blinked, staring at his screen for a moment.

 

He was suddenly torn. He knew nothing about Yuuri Katsuki, nothing that wasn’t superficial.

 

Basing relationships off of passion alone never got him far in the past. If this produced anything he wouldn’t allow it to be a surface level attraction.

 

Still, it was hard to ignore the anticipation that was beginning to stir him. Thinking back on the brief conversation they had had; how wholesome, and captivating that smile had been. Even at that point he had felt something…

  
It was impossible to deny. To him, Yuuri Katsuki was already incredibly interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're still enjoying this! Honestly... I'm just ready to make them kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Otabek.

“So what was up with today, huh? You almost never mess up that bad! You sure you’re alright?”

They were both in Phichit’s apartment again, but this time, Phichit’s significant other was preparing dinner, in person, instead of participating via skype call.

“I don’t know. I think I maybe had too much on my mind.” Yuuri finally replied

“Everything that happened today was just a little too overwhelming...” Even as he spoke his expression was still absent, eyes fixed ahead, almost as if they were able to see through the wall he stared at.

“You still have a lot on your mind, dude. You’re not even here.” Phichit teased, waving a hand in front of Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri’s eyes focused for the moment and he glanced over at Phichit. “Having to deal with that woman was a lot. Then, after that.. I had a really weird conversation with Yuri’s dad…” His eyes glazed again. Clearly, this was what Yuuri was so stuck on. Phichit could tell by the way his friend’s face darkened as the topic shifted.

“Weird.” Phichit repeated. “Like how?”

By this time Phichit’s partner had brought a plate of food for all three of them, setting them all down on the table before taking their place next to Phichit.

“Ooooh! Are we gossiping?” Jamie asked, clearly eager to hear about the interesting events of their work day.

Yuuri’s face darkened even further at the probing.

“Yeah, yeah!” Phichit said with a laugh, shaking his head at Yuuri’s reaction. “He met Victor today! You know, that hot dad I was telling you about? Yuuri thinks they had a weird conversation. Though I don’t think he can really explain to me how it was ‘weird’. ”

“Oh!” Jamie clasped their hands together; everything seemingly clicking into place as Phichit explained.  “Maybe he was flirting with you~”

Phichit was suddenly shaking Jamie’s shoulder with overwhelming enthusiasm.

“O-oh my god! Holy crap... You beautiful genius” He murmured, peppering his partner’s cheek with kisses before turning back to his friend. “Yuuri!” He then shouted, using his still free hand to grip Yuuri’s shoulder in the same manner. “He was totally flirting with you! I saw it! He did the whole suave thing; Leaning in close, hands on the wall, smiling with that sexy face-- You know ‘that’ face.” At the emphasis, he began wiggling his eyebrows at Yuuri.

“Babe..” Jamie giggled, gently nudging Phichit with their elbow. “Look at him. I think you’ve done enough.”

Yuuri had been silently wishing for death as soon as Victor had become the center of their conversation. “I-I don’t think it was like that. He was just telling me about Yuri. That’s it! Really... ”

Phichit waved a hand to dissolve Yuuri’s desperate explanation. “Nah. You don’t know Yuuri like I do! He really needs us here to point out the obvious because I don’t think he would know flirting if it slapped him in the face.” To reassure his friend he meant no harm, he gently squeezed his shoulder before continuing. “There was one time in middle school where I thought I had a crush on him and so I asked him to hold my hand, right? But Yuuri said ‘No. That’s gross’. He didn’t mean it to be rude, or anything. But at the time it really messed me up…” As he reminisced, he laughed.  “I didn’t date for years! I thought everyone would think holding hands with me was gross.”

“I-I hadn’t washed my hands…!!“ Yuuri lamented; clearly mortified.

“I know that now! But my whole point is you had no idea I was flirting with you! Just like you have no idea that Victor is probably flirting with you now, too~”

“I bet he likes you.” Jamie added, giving Yuuri a smile.

Having just found the resolve to take the first few bites of his dinner, Yuuri was in the process of chewing when Jamie made their suggestion. Dropping his fork he coughed, lifting and waving both hands as if he needed to defend himself. “No, no, no, no, no!! I-It not like that at all. H-He just.. I… Please don’t.”

Both Jamie and Phichit began to laugh as Yuuri hid his reddening face in his hands.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next practice fell on a Monday, so Victor packed before heading to Yuri’s school to pick him up. Dinner was included in that packing, so Yuri was able to eat as they drove to the rink.

“Did you want to stay after practice again?” Victor asked, trying his best to casually pose the question.

Eyeing his father as he chewed, Yuri quirked a brow “Uh… Sure?”

Victor wasn’t just bad at being subtle; he was practically incapable of it. So, despite his best efforts, Yuri was beginning to have his suspicions.

“I’m having a friend over though, remember? So we can’t stay too long.”

A coy smile was playing at the corners of Victor’s mouth.

“Of course. Don’t worry. There is just a few things I wanted to do.”

Sinking down into his seat, Yuri slid his palms down his cheeks as he groaned.

“Dad.. Don’t do anything dumb... I swear to god. I’ll move in with Grandpa”

“Grandpa is in Russia, Yuri.” Victor teased.

“Duh. That’s the point.” His son muttered back, still skulking in his seat.

 

 

* * *

 

Practice seemed to go without a hitch. Victor had remained in the stands for it’s entirety, so Yuri began to relax; almost believing his initial assumption had been wrong. That moment of bliss lasted until he slipped into the area off the rink to remove his skates only to stumble upon his father lacing up his own.

Lifting his head after finishing the knot, Victor laughed and flashed an innocent smile; one akin to what a guilty child would give their scolding parent.

“Yuri---”

“No.” The words began to tumble out as soon a Yuri opened his mouth, effectively ending any form of explanation from Victor. “Take them off. Take them off! Why the hell did you bring them? You’re too old to be on the ice, anyways!”

Letting out a sigh as he stood, he began working out the best way to dissolve Yuri’s irritation.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve practiced.” He started, voice careful; eyes locked on Yuri. “Phichit had mentioned that he watched a lot of my competitions. I figured he’d enjoy seeing me practice in person. Did you forget what I said about observation being important for motivation?”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing as realization began to hit. “You’re showing off. That’s what this is! You’re trying to impress him.”

Victor barely managed to choke out a nervous laugh at being caught in his intentions.

Silently watching his father for a few more moments, Yuri’s frown finally lifted. Slightly.

“Fine. If you’re going to show off then do it right and don’t fall.. “ He murmured, anger already starting to cool. “If you fall I’ll be pissed.”

“You know I always land my quads.” Victor replied, ruffling his fingers through Yuri’s hair in reassurance before stepping out on the ice.

 

* * *

 

 

“Yuuri~! Phichit~!” Victor called, sliding to a stop near the entrance of the rink as the two coaches joined him on the ice. The other two skaters clearly hadn’t expected him, so when they realized what was happening, Phichit nearly cried and Yuuri looked… confused.

“V-Victor!” Phichit wailed. “You’re skating? Here? With us!?” Now nudging Yuuri in pure excitement.

“Yes! I figured I could practice while both of you were here. After all, it has been a while.”

Blinking, Yuuri glanced back and forth between Victor and Phichit. He couldn’t quite seem to grasp what was going on.

“It’s really nice that you’re involved so much with Yuri’s skating. Most parents don’t even want to try it.” He said with an earnest smile.

Everything suddenly fell silent.

Slowly inhaling, Victor clasped his hands together and pressed his fingertips to his lips. Yuuri had no idea who he was. Not that it really mattered, plenty of people didn’t know who he was. But suddenly, everything made sense.

“Hmm…” He finally breathed, lifting his gaze back up towards Yuuri.

Yuuri once again glanced between Phichit and Victor, this time more frantically. “H-Huh..?”

“Okay!” Phichit cheered, trying his best to kill the now awkward silence. “Victor! You should practice. We’ll hang back and watch, okay?”

Eyes still locked on Yuuri, he gave them both a thumbs up, a coy smile lurking on his lips as he drifted off to begin building momentum on the ice.

“You’re the worst. I… I can’t even.” Phichit fumed, finally shooting a glare at Yuuri.

Eyes wide, Yuuri turned towards Phichit, worry and confusion now knotting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry! I’ll be honest. I have no idea what’s going on...”

Phichit slapped his palm to his face, practically sobbing. “Just don’t talk and watch him skate, okay?”

 

 

* * *

 

It had been six months since he had been on the ice, and it still felt natural. His body moved with almost instinctive mastery, weight distributed evenly as he shifted into an Ina Bauer; composing himself before he began to build speed. Crossing over once, he bent forward to propel himself backwards, speed increasing before he crossed over again one last time to check his positioning for his jump.

Early in his competitive career, the quadruple flip had become his signature move. Since perfecting it, he hadn’t fallen during it for several years.

He knew his positioning. He knew the angles. Once he was in proper form, he twisted one last time before planting his toe pick into the ice to launch into his jump. However, as soon as he planted his toe pick he knew it was wrong.  

He had messed up. Badly.

He didn’t even complete his rotations. To save himself from what could have been a much nastier fall, he took it on his ass-- hitting the ice before sprawling on his back, still sliding from the built momentum. Once he finally came to a stop, he simply laid there, staring at the lights that hung overhead.

Unbeknownst to him, Phichit was essentially choking back tears. _He had finally gotten to see his idol skate in person…._ _And he fell._

Yuuri, on the other hand, had began a rush over to Victor as soon as he had hit the ice.

He drifted a little closer to Victor, now sheepishly leaning over him. “T-That was good! I, I mean… Jumps are really hard and you probably shouldn’t try that too soon without having proper practice. Trust me, I learned that the hard way..”

“You’re killing me..” Victor murmured back, a bemused smile touching his lips. “I think I know what to do now. Though I really do appreciate the advice.” Pushing himself up, he rolled his shoulders, attempting to work out the throbbing in his lower back.

By this point Phichit had caught up to Yuuri. He slapped at his friend as Victor once again started off on the ice.

“Yuuri! Jesus Christ, I.. You --- Do you seriously not recognize him? I mean, at first I just thought you were trying to play it cool, but then I remembered that you’re _you_ and you don’t do that! You’ve been in my room, Yuuri! You’ve seen the posters!” Phichit was wailing as he clung to his friend. Real tears - likely produced by his embarrassment- had began to streak down his cheeks.

Yuuri’s eyes were watching Victor now, he was clearly gearing up for another jump…

“T-That’s… But that guy had really long hair.” Yuuri whispered, his voice cracking under the possibility of what Phichit pointed out being true.

“Scissors exist!!” Phichit cried, now hanging off Yuuri, his face buried in his friend’s shoulder. “Scissors exist and most of those pictures are over 5 years old. Victor, Yuuri… Victor _Nikiforov._ **_5 time gold medalist, Victor Nikiforov, Yuuri!_ ** ”

Realization hit Yuuri like a punch to his chest. “Oh my god. I---”

“Yeah. Yeah, Yuuri. You just told a world champion that he shouldn’t try quads- That he should start out with something _easier_. Yuuri! That beautiful man, for all intents and purposes, invented the Quad flip!”

As Phichit continued to sob, Victor suddenly clipped off the ice.

It was a perfect Quadruple flip… Followed by a Triple…

Yuuri, for the second time in the last 24 hours, wished for a quick demise.

Phichit finally pulled himself together, sniffing and wiping his eyes with his sleeve. As Victor slid to a stop a few feet ahead of them the still teary eyed skater began clapping.

“Better?” Victor asked, pushing his hair back from his eyes, brow cocked in expectation.

“Yes!!” Phichit replied, still clapping.

Yuuri, on the other hand, stayed completely silent. His face was searing red. He tried his best to avoid looking at Victor.

“Ah! I almost forgot” Victor started, drifting a little closer. “I’ve been meaning to thank you two for your work as coaches, not only in regards to Yuri, but in general. You’ve done well. Would dinner at my place work?”

“Yes.” Phichit sputtered almost before Victor could even finish posing the question.

Both then turned to look at a still silent Yuuri. It took a few moments, but he finally lifted his head; adjusting his glasses before he spoke. “I-I have plans..” Clearly, his embarrassment had gotten the better of him.

Victor’s smile faltered. The pained expression was brief, but Phichit had caught it.

“No he doesn’t.” He negated. “Well, I mean he did. But they were with me. So he’ll be there!”

“Amazing! Dinner tomorrow night! I’ll give you my address?”

“Yes, yes!” Phichit beamed before wrapping an arm around Yuuri. “We’ll see you tomorrow night!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Once Victor was off the ice, he removed his skates and began to scan the stands for Yuri. However, his son was nowhere to be found. The stands were empty. Upon further inspection, he was quick to realize that Yuri wasn’t the only thing missing. Though his blazer was still draped over the bench where he had left it, both equipment bags were gone.

Grabbing his blazer, he worked to stifle his uneasiness as he made his way out of his rink and towards the doors that led out to the lot. Anxiety darkened his thoughts, and he half expected to see his car missing from the spot he had parked it in earlier, but it was still there, and even from where he stood he could make out the shape of his son in the front passenger seat.

“Yuri!” He breathed, once he was able to open the driver side door.

Yuri scowled, phone in hand. “He’s here now.”

“Vitya…” The other voice on the line spoke. “What the hell were you thinking!?”

“Dad looked like he had never skated before in his life. He fell!! He fell trying to do a quad.. He completely embarrassed himself. He also embarrassed _me!_ What the hell, dad!”

“What were you thinking!!” Yakov shouted again

“He wasn’t.” Yuri muttered, thrusting the phone out towards Victor.

Sighing, Victor took the phone before sliding into his seat.

“Yakov. It was one mistake.. I landed a combination immediately after.”

“I do not care about your combinations! You embarrass Yuri. You embarrass me! Six months off the ice and you think you can land a jump… Vitya. I am truly disappointed.”

Rolling his eyes, he started the car. The scolding from his long time friend and former coach pulled back every seemingly repressed feeling of humiliation from the fall. “Honestly, me too…” He couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out after.

“Good! Now.. Do not forget to send pictures.”

Yuri, who had still been skulking, fought the keep himself from blushing. “You’re both the worst. Let’s just get home already! Unless you forgot how to drive. I mean, it’s been awhile...”

Victor hung up the phone before smiling.

“Careful, I am the one cooking and it’s been awhile since I’ve made Pirozhki. It would be a shame if I burned them…”

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner was ready by 7:30, and Victor had already began to set the table when Yuri finally joined him from upstairs. He was anxious, Victor could spot his son’s unease almost immediately.

“He said he was on his way, like, 30 minutes ago.”

"Did you remember to give him your address..?” Victor questioned, doing his best to be helpful. It was always difficult for him to watch Yuri worry, especially now, when there was almost nothing he could do to fix it.

“Yeah…” he finally responded.

A few moments later his phone began to buzz. Victor assumed it was their dinner guest because as soon as his son checked the caller, his mood visibly lifted.

“Otabek! Where are you?” Surprisingly, there was no trace of annoyance in his voice.

“I need your address again.”

“Uh… I sent it to you?”

There was silence.

“I am in the wrong area, then.” The voice on the other end finally responded.

“Grosse Pointe? We’re on Windmill Pointe Drive? Dude, you couldn’t miss our house if you tried…”

Silence again. Yuri made a face and shrugged at Victor as he waited.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Yuri repeated, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yuri. Come outside and get me. I believe there is a woman calling the police. It is dark and I am on a bike. I look suspicious.”

Yuri didn’t waste the time to answer, he simply rushed outside to save his friend. As soon as he was down the short block of stairs that led down the their drive, he was shouting. _Why the hell was their driveway so long, anyways?_

“Otabek!” He called, finally coming into view of the road. A short distance off he could see a figure rushing up his drive, pushing a bike. Meeting his friend in the middle, Yuri heaved a breath when he stopped in front of him.

“You rode your bike here? T-That’s like 6 miles..”

“I ride my bike a lot.”

Yuri smiled.

“That’s kinda cool.”

Eager to get dinner started, Yuri led Otabek back up the drive towards the house. Once they had managed to park Otabek’s bike near the garage, they made their way inside. However, as soon as the door opened, Yuri’s worst nightmare greeted him.

“Smile~!” Victor shouted, phone held up ready to snap the pictures.

Choked silent from sheer mortification, Yuri couldn’t even find his voice to scream. He was upset with himself for not realizing sooner, for Otabek’s sake, that this would happen.

Otabek, on the other hand, stood dutifully at Yuri’s side, a trace of what could possibly be a smile curling at the corner of his lips.

“Ahh ~ Perfect.” Victor finally relented, slipping his phone into his back pocket for now, he ran the risk of it going missing if he continued. Smiling at the two that stood before him, he suddenly realized that in the rush to get a picture before Yuri was able to protest, he hadn’t really gotten the chance to get a proper look at the boy his son had invited over…

At no shorter than 5’5”, the dark haired teen that stood next to his son looked like an adult. Yuri still had a charming amount of child-like features; face still a bit round. Otabek did not. his jaw was squared, and any baby fat that should have lingered - even if he were only a few years older than Yuri - was gone.

Yuri was still glaring at him, but Victor ignored it for the time being.

“I’m sorry… Yuri never told me anything about you. I’m Victor.” He stepped towards his son’s guest and held out his hand.

"Otabek. Thank you for having me.” He said, grasping Victor’s hand to shake it once.

“Mm.. So how did you meet Yuri? How old are you?”

Yuri shot him a heated glare, likely still too enraged to speak.

“14. Yuri punched a player on my team. I thought it was cool.”

Victor breathed a sigh of relief. “I remember you now. You were the one that ended up breaking up the argument. You know, I never got the chance to thank you, I’m really glad Yuri decided to have you over. Hopefully you’re hungry ~ I already finished dinner. Accept this as part of my thanks?”

Otabek nodded.

“We’re eating in my room.” Yuri finally hissed.

Victor pressed his lips together in the hopes to disguise a frown. He deserved this. Yuri was still clearly embarrassed. To make him happy Victor was willing to compromise.

“That’s fine ~ You know where everything is in the kitchen and plates are on the table.”

“Thank you.” Otabek nodded.

Yuri just grumbled as he led his friend off into the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

 

Otabek stayed until just past 11pm, he likely would have stayed longer, but Yuri passed out at 10:50. When that happened Otabek had wandered downstairs to inform Victor of this and that he would prefer it to let Yuri rest and not worry about saying goodbye. He had tried his best. Really. But unfortunately, his bedtime was at 9 and it was surprising he had even managed to make it past 10.

Refusing to let Otabek ride his bike back through downtown at night, Victor drove him home.

The only words Otabek spoke were the turn by turn directions to his house, then goodbye and thank you when he was dropped off. Despite the lack of conversation, Victor liked him. He was honest. Alarmingly so. No wonder Yuri took to him so quickly.

Once he returned, he let Makkachin out before heading upstairs to Yuri’s room. Throughout the course of the night Yuri and Otabek had been collecting every pillow and every blanket from around the house. So, what Victor found when he opened the door made him laugh. Yuri was asleep on the floor, blankets strewn all over his room, draped over his bed and television to form a makeshift fort. Maneuvering through it, Victor knelt down to gently tug a blanket down over Yuri’s exposed feet.

Looking around, he found what he had initially intended to retrieve; the plates. Picking them up, resolved to leave the blankets until later, he stepped out and shut the door behind him. Makkachin had a tendency to pounce Yuri in the middle of the night if it was left open, and since Yuri had fallen asleep on the floor, it was even more likely. 

Heading downstairs into the dimly lit living area he discarded his dishes in the sink. He didn't have the self discipline to clear them at that moment, his mind was too far wandering. Yawning, he finally retrieved his dog and wandered off to his own room. 

His back ached in protest as he stretched and readied himself for bed. Though he didn't bother to look, it was evident by the pain that there was the beginnings of discoloration. He reached back in the hopes to sooth it with gentle pressure but had no such luck. 

He'd ice it tomorrow. 

Dropping to the bed, he prepared himself to be kept up by the anticipation of tomorrow. However, that wasn't the case. His mind took mercy on him and almost as soon as he closed his eyes he drifted off to sleep. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the issue that I ran into with this chapter is that I wanted to include both dinner days.. But if I had, it would have been MUCH too long and I was already struggling with the length as it is. Anyways, I'm just anxious to get on to the next chapter. Otabek will be around more, no worries. I have much planned for him. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading!


	5. Talk too much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!! ::WARNING:: !!!!  
>  This chapter mentions alcohol consumption and drunken interactions. If this makes you uncomfortable please do not read.

“I’m not going.” Yuuri tried his best to sound serious when he spoke to Phichit but the level of his voice could barely be defined as a whisper. It wasn’t on purpose. It was because it felt like his pounding heart was lodged in his throat.

Maybe if he was lucky he’d choke. Then he’d never have to see Victor again.

“Nope! You’re not getting out of this one~”

Phichit was already pulling his coat on.

 Yuuri was running out of time.

 “I can’t. He doesn’t want to see me. He’s just being nice. I mean -- Did you see the look he gave me? I basically called him an over involved skating dad.” He slapped his palm to his face. Every time his mind forced him to relive that moment, watching Victor quietly shoulder every idiotic word that fell out of his mouth, he debated quitting his job.

 “You didn’t ‘basically’ call him an over involved skating dad. You _did_ call him that. That’s what you actually said.”

 “I’m moving back to Japan.” Yuuri declared.

“No, no, no! I’m gonna be your wingman! It’s fine!”

 “What -- N-- No?! That makes no sense! You can’t be a wingman when the person who is hosting the dinner has showed _zero_ interest in me.”

 Phichit picked up his friend’s jacket and tossed it at him.

 “You wouldn’t know that. C’mon! I’m hungry. Do you think he cooks?”

 “P-Phichit please. I can’t.”

 Phichit ignored him, he had pulled his phone out and was now leaning in towards Yuuri to take a picture.

 “Smile ~”

 Yuuri’s face darkened a considerable amount. He didn’t smile. Phichit was prepping the post for Instagram with the tag ‘#wingman’.

 “You remember that you have Viktor on Instagram, right…?” He murmured, trying to stomach the fact that he had lost the argument.

 “Oh crap! You’re right. This selfie will be saved for after dinner when my work is done!” He clapped a hand against Yuuri’s back, clearly pleased with himself.

 “C’mon! Let’s get going.”

 Yuuri shrugged his jacket on, nervously chewing his lower lip. If Phichit wasn’t already motioning him to hurry up he would have tried to  stall for a few more seconds.

 “This is going to go badly..” He sighed as he followed Phichit out the door.

 

* * *

 

The drive to Viktor’s house was, unfortunately, very short. Yuuri had never been to this side of town, and the houses, as they neared their destination - according to the GPS - continued to get bigger. As did Yuuri’s anxiety.

 When he heard the words: ‘The destination is on your left’ his stomach dropped so hard, and so suddenly, that he groaned.

 “Daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn.. “ Phichit breathed, leaning forward in his seat to get a better view of the house at the end of the drive. He nudged Yuuri once he was able to close his jaw.

 “Sugardaddy?” he teased.

 “Please stop.  I don’t want this. I never asked for this. You're not helping me at all.” Yuuri barely managed to respond, gently knocking his head against the window. Phichit had pulled to a stop closer to what one could only assume was the entrance of the house.

 “I was kidding! Okay, c’mon.. You’re right. That was bad. But we’re here now! It’ll be fun! I mean, do you see this house? This dinner is gonna be fancy.. I’m glad I didn’t eat earlier.” Before exiting the car he gave Yuuri another nudge in the hopes to coax him to join.

 Yuuri quietly got out and followed behind Phichit, eyes on his feet as they walked the drive up to the door. He had never understood the point of large houses. They seemed excessive…

 Once the were up the small set of stairs, Phichit knocked. Yuuri held his breath in trepidation. After a few moments the door cracked open, Yuuri could barely make out Yuri’s face peeking through.

 Phichit gave him a wave.

“Ugh..  I didn’t think you’d actually show up..” he muttered, but a gave a sort of half-smile as he pulled the door open to let them in. “Dad’s been cooking all evening. He’s trying to be impressive.” Yuuri couldn’t focus, the blonde's words seemed distant and far away as his eyes drifted up towards the ceiling. Phichit took pity on him and saved him from appearing too socially inept by nudging him. “We’re starving! I bet you guys have all sorts of parties with a place this big.”

 “Yeah.” Yuuri added pathetically.

 “No not really. This neighborhood thinks we’re weird foreigners.”

 Once their coats had been put away Yuri led them through the main entrance area, what appeared to be some sort of living room, and into the kitchen. Yuuri almost turned around when he caught a glimpse of Victor placing several plates and glasses on the table.

 “Wow! Victor! Seriously, you did this? You’re too much! So dinner at your place more often?” Phichit laughed, mostly teasing. He had skipped ahead into the dining area to attempt and help the host with the plate setting.

 Yuri seemed much quieter - much more complacent - than he usually was. Yuuri couldn’t focus too heavily on that fact, though. Everyone had abandoned him to take their place around the table.

 He continued to stare awkwardly from his spot near the wall.

 “Yuuri~?” Victor mused, flashing a smile his way before motioning him over.

 Snagging his lower lip between his teeth when Victor said his name, he sucked in a deep breath in the hopes it would grant him some small amount of courage. It didn’t, but he took a step forward anyways, giving Victor a nod when he neared before taking a seat at the table. There were several large heaping plates of food, some of which he didn’t recognize… But the smell was enticing. Hunger was effectively squashing his anxiety.

 “V-Victor.. You did so much. We would have brought something. Wine maybe. I feel bad…”

 “Kiss ass. ” Yuri muttered. Loudly. There it was. The irritability had returned.

 “I-I!.. I didn’t mean --”

Victor said nothing and simply turned his back on Yuri and took the open seat between him and their stammering guest.

 “My thanks, remember? Besides, I have wine. We’ll bring it out after dinner. Yuri will likely be asleep by that time.”

 “No I won’t! Shut up. I can stay up late...”

 It was quiet, but Victor laughed, leaning closer to Yuuri in an almost indetectable way.

 “I’m just glad you decided to join. Let’s eat?”

 With the clear go-ahead, Phichit and Yuri didn’t hesitate to start filling their plates, chattering away, mostly about Phichit’s time as a competitive skater.

Yuuri, on the other hand, caught himself watching the man that sat next to him. They were really sitting here. Having dinner... He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the fact that this was happening. Without warning, the conversation from the other day pushed its way into his mind.

 

**_Maybe he likes you._ **

 

Yuuri knew it was stupid, but he continued to watch Victor idly adding comments into Yuri and Phichit’s conversation.

 

_**But what if he does?** _

 

At that exact moment, Victor’s gaze drifted over to him, and Yuuri worried for more than a few seconds that he could read minds. Before their eyes could meet Yuuri busied himself with loading his plate with food.

Though he could pretend Victor wasn’t watching him, he couldn’t stop the blush that was spreading across his cheeks.

He also couldn’t watch as Victor smiled.

 

* * *

 

 “So, like I was saying. I took bronze~! It had always been my dream to win for my country… Also! It’s been a silly little wish of mine to skate together with Yuuri in a fancy skating production with lots of cool costumes! But getting to teach kids how to skate with him is good enough ~ Have you seen Yuuri skate? He’s actually really good. He just doesn’t like showing off. ”

 Phichit had been talking for awhile now, and Yuuri welcomed the chance to sit quietly and listen. Surprisingly enough, over the course of their dinner, he had managed to loosen the hold anxiety had on his nerves. He even laughed when Phichit mentioned his skills in skating.

 “I’m not that good! I like teaching more more than I like competing… Besides who would help you coach if I went competitive.”

 “I have seen Yuuri skate ~ He was incredibly captivating.” Victor interjected, smiling at them both.

 “W--What..” Yuuri suddenly breathed, laughter lodged in his throat as he turned to face Victor. “No.. Oh god. When did you see me skate.”

 Phichit was already laughing. A coy smile pulled at Victors lips.

 “The other day. After practice. I had been meaning to ask how your nose was. But it looks fine now ~ You hit that wall hard!”

 He was clearly teasing.. Yuuri could feel the heat rising in his cheeks.

 “Haahaa. You saw that!? Jeeze. He’s never done that before.” Phichit managed through laughter.

 “I was worried when I saw it happen.” Victor admitted. “I was about to step onto the ice myself. Luckily, you took care of him.”

 At that moment Yuri, who had been surprisingly silent during this last bit of their conversation, abruptly slumped forward. He was asleep.

 “Ahaha.. See? I told him he wouldn’t make it past 10pm. Excuse me for a minute?” Victor laughed as he pushed himself up from where he sat before  carefully hefting Yuri out of his own seat. Yuri did little more than mumble when Victor began to carry him off.

 Something about that display of affection made Yuuri’s heart race. He had never really dealt with children outside of coaching. He found himself thinking about what it might be like. In fact, he was so lost in that thought--another blush coaxed to spread across his face-- that he barely noticed when Phichit stood as well.

 “Look at you. My work here is done~” He said, voice swelling with satisfaction.

 Slowly turning to stare up at Phichit, realization began weight down on Yuuri.

 “Wait! W-What do you mean?” The question was asked only in the hopes to stall his friend. He knew what it meant but, a small part of him was still convinced Phichit wasn’t going to do what most of him knew he would.

 “If I leave now that means you can hang out here for awhile longer with no interruptions! You got this. Look at you ~ Go get him!” Phichit gave his shoulder a hard squeeze.

 “I-I’ll call Jamie! You can’t.. You can’t just leave me---! Seriously!?” Yuuri was panicking, but he was soon forced to swallow it down as Victor returned from upstairs.

 Phichit winked at him. Jamie was in on it....

 “Victor! Hey, I’m really sorry but -- Uh -- My partner really needs me home! They aren’t feeling well and I promised I wouldn’t stay out too late. Let’s do this again, though! Because, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re perfect, and your cooking is fantastic, and I wanna hang out here more. But do you mind giving Yuuri a ride back later?”

 As Phichit spoke Victor was fishing out a bottle of wine from a cabinet in the kitchen.

On his return he sat a glass down in front of Yuuri. “No problem! Don’t worry, I’ll get him home safe later. Unless.. Yuuri?” He paused, still lingering near the one he addressed.

 “Did you want to stay?”

 Without a moment's hesitation, Yuuri fervently nodded.

 “Ah! Amazing ~”

 The smile that broke across Victors face was so stunning that Yuuri forgot how to breath.

 “Tell your partner that I hope they feel better soon! And please, come more often! I typically cook dinner, anyways. Yuri would likely enjoy seeing you more, too.”

 Pressing his palms to his face Phichit stared at Victor with the pure adoration.

“Victor.. I love you.” he wailed before waving both his hands in enthusiastic farewell.

“A-And Jamie already loves you, too. Sorry -- I’ll head out. Have fun!” He waved again before backing out of the kitchen.

 A few moments later Yuuri heard the front door open and close. Phichit was actually gone..

 At some point, Victor had taken his seat next to Yuuri again, this time leaning over to grab the glass that he had sat down in front of the other. There was silence for a moment, but it didn’t seem to be awkward, just… uncertain.

Yuuri swallowed hard. Panic was beginning to rear it's head...

 “I was going to have some wine ~ Did you want a drink?”

 Instead of saying yes, or no, like any normal person would, a build up of inhibitions tumbled out when he opened his mouth.

 “I’ve never dated anyone!” The confession was almost a plea. He was staring at Victor now, eyes wide, lower lip snagged between his teeth.

 Blinking, clearly shocked by the unprovoked outburst, Victor’s brow began to knit as he attempted to try understand exactly what was happening. Yuuri was practically on the edge of his seat, almost as if he didn’t continue speaking he’d burst.

 “Wait, Yuuri--” He started, hoping to comfort the other, but Yuuri interrupted him.

 “I-I’ve never dated anyone.. And I’m pretty sure I don’t know how to flirt. And I also don’t know when people are flirting with me. And one time, in middle school, when I was trying to date Phichit, he asked to hold my hand and I said ‘No, that’s gross.’ because it was! I hadn’t washed my hands after lunch.. “ Somewhere in his explanation, he had hid his face in his hands. He couldn’t handle this. Revealing something so emotional had him feeling sick to his stomach.                

 He heard Victor quietly chuckle next to him.

 “Yuuri.. “ He then murmured, but his voice was suddenly very close, lifting up a hand between them to pull Yuuri’s hand away from his face.

 “Are you asking me if I’m flirting with you?”

 Victor was still touching his hand. Yuuri stared back at back at him before the words abruptly poured out.

 “Are you flirting with me Victor?”

 The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, but Victor took it in stride.

 “That was the goal… But can I tell you something?”

 Yuuri nodded and Victor used the pause as an opportunity to fill his own glass. As he did, Yuuri sheepishly pushed his glass towards him as well.

 “I can’t let you continue to feel uncomfortable. So I’ll confess something as well.” He placed down the bottle of wine and took a drink from his glass. Yuuri did the same. He needed this now.

 “I haven’t dated much either, really. The longest relationship I’ve had was one I felt obligated to stay in. After Yuri was born my parents expected me to marry her. It was the right thing to do, in their opinion. But I didn’t want to be with her - for many reasons - and she certainly didn’t want to be with me. It was never a problem between the two of us, it’s likely we had accepted an end early on… However, to my parents, it was my duty to hold up appearances, and it would be inappropriate for me to raise my son on my own. So, when I told them that I had no intentions to be with her, they turned their backs on me. My mother still calls every few years, but I haven’t spoken to my father since the day Yuri was born.”

 He smiled then, the glass lingering near his lips as he seemed to remember something.

 “I’m so sorry.” Yuuri lamented quietly. He dropped his gaze to his glass, than glanced back up at Victor, sorting through the ways to attempt and console him.

 “I didn’t bring it up to make you sad. The point is, I didn’t want you to be the only one feeling… exposed? Vulnerable, maybe.”

 Yuuri smiled as he took another -- much longer -- drink from his glass.

 “Okay, okay. My turn.” Slowly, he drew in a breath, held it, then released. He could feel his trepidations quickly dissipating. It was probably the wine.

 “My parents think Phichit and I are engaged.”

 Victor struggled to hold in the laughter that suddenly seized him. Yuuri laughed, too.

 “I know, it’s dumb. But they kept asking.. And Phichit has visited my home a lot. When they confronted me about it, I panicked and told them we were engaged. They are always genuinely happy about anything I do - they really care - S..So I just couldn’t bring myself to…. Tell them the truth…”

 Yuuri’s glass was empty. He only realized it when he tipped it up to his lips for another drink.

 Plucking the empty glass from Yuuri’s grasp, Victor laughed. “Here. I have a better idea. We’ll continue this outside?”

 “Outside..?” Yuuri repeated, clearly confused and vaguely alarmed. It was cold outside…

 “Outside ~”

That was the only explanation he got. Victor was already back in the kitchen pulling several various bottles of a shelf.

 When he returned he had two large, filled glasses balanced in one hand and a clear bottle of vodka in the other.

 “Follow me~!”

 Yuuri scrambled to push himself out of his seat and stumbled to catch up to Victor. Unfortunately he had been completely serious about taking things outside. The bitter night air greeted them as soon as he opened the back door. Victor hardly flinched. Yuuri, on the other hand, felt his entire body stiffen; jaw clenched tight to keep his teeth from chattering. He almost whined when Victor shut the door behind them, effectively sealing off the lingering heat from inside.

 He waited, giving the other man a look of apprehension, but Victor only smiled, leading him further out onto the deck that spanned across a majority of the backyard.

 Yuuri could now see why Victor had suggested to come outside. In a small, semi enclosed area of the deck, there was a hot tub.

 “O---Ooh.” Yuuri breathed, the cold air pricking his lungs, provoking another shiver.

 “I figured it’d help ease a bit of tension.” Victor clarified, freeing his hands to begin pulling the cover off the water.

 Yuuri watched, quiet for the most part, shifting his weight on his feet in a desperate attempt to promote blood flow and warm his extremities.

 Without warning, once the cover had been removed, Victor unclasped his belt, tossed it aside, and kicked off his pants. His shirt followed soon after.

 Yuuri forgot what cold was.

 He watched as the taunt muscles of Victors back shuddered as he exposed his skin cold, toes curling as he bit back a hiss before quickly slipping into the steaming water. He knew he was expected to follow, but for the moment, he couldn’t quite remember how his feet were supposed to work.

 “You’ll freeze.. “ Victor teased, arms carelessly draped over the edge as he watched Yuuri.

 “Right!” Yuuri hesitated only a moment more before he began to work at his pants. His fingers fumbled, mostly due to the cold but also because Victor was still watching him, a startlingly coy expression playing on his face.

Yuuri swallowed hard. “S-Sorry..” He murmured, gritting his teeth and dropping his pants and throwing off his shirt to fervently scramble into water.

 “Better?” Victor breathed, settling back after he handed Yuuri one of the glasses.

 “Yeah. And thanks. T-This is actually nice..”  Yuuri curiously took a sip of the drink he had been handed. It was surprisingly enjoyable, the taste of alcohol was subtle.

 “And this is good. Though, Isn’t it…. Typically a good rule not to drink alcohol in a hot tub?”

 Victor blinked, clearly surprised by the information. “Ah! Is it? Well… If you start to feel too hot let me know? We’ll head back inside.” By this time, he had slipped in far enough for the water to nearly touch his chin. There was a momentary pause as he relaxed, but once he seemed settled, his focus returned to Yuuri.

 “Would you like to keep talking? I’m interested to hear more ~”

 “Oh.. Uh---” Yuuri stammered, unease threatening to settle in again. Typically, he wouldn’t react well to this particular topic. But, from what he could see, Victor was genuinely interested.

 That particular realization soon had him blushing.

 “Alright..” He finally murmured, exhaling a long, slow breath before slipping a little further into the water.

 

* * *

 

 The conversation, as well as Yuuri’s intoxication level, had certainly made progress. At some point, Victor had offered up the drink he had made for himself since Yuuri enjoyed it, and settled for nursing the handle of vodka.

 “Y.. You know. I’m stupid. Stupid and sorry for not knowing who you were. I’m an idiot. A huge idiot.” Yuuri murmured, leaning even closer to Victor now. He hadn’t realized how close he had gotten, the smothering haze of intoxication had made it exceedingly more difficult to think. However, he was suddenly aware of just _how close_ he was.

 Victor was also intoxicated. Even inebriated Yuuri could see this. The way his lips lazily parted as he spoke, the hint of red that spread across his nose…

 “I never thought I’d recover ~” He laughed, slowly dragging a hand through his hair.

 Yuuri could only stare at him, mortification magnified by the drink.

 “N-No! No.. no, no, no... !” He wailed, instinctively reaching out to grab at Victor’s shoulder.

 Victor laughed, slowly leaning into the touch, eyes alight with mild amusement.

 “I hurt my ego more than you did.”

 After he spoke he closed his eyes, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. For a brief moment, he almost looked... self-conscious. Yuuri couldn’t take it.

 “No. I did it. I talk too much.”

 Before he could stop himself, his hands were pressed against either side of Victor’s face. He could only regard the shocked expression that stared back at him for a few seconds  before he crushed their lips together.

 However, as soon as their lips met The exact level of his intoxication hit him all at once as the kissed-- the abruptness of his movement, and the heat of the water, had his head spinning so violently that he gasped.

 “Y-Yuuri..!” Victor murmured. Feeling the other faltering against him, he wound an arm around Yuuri to keep him steady.

 “I didn’t expect that..” Laughing now, he relaxed as Yuuri seemed pull out of his bout of dizziness.

 Before anything else could start spinning, he pursed his lips and pressed his forehead against Victor’s.  “I-- I wanted to. I just wanted to. It was bad? I-It _was_ bad.. Crap. It was that bad. You’re laughing.”

 “Mm.. I didn’t think so.. “ Victor breathed, tipping his head just enough nudge the tip of his nose against Yuuri’s -- their lips only inches apart. “But, if you’re worried, I encourage you to try again.”

 Without warning, Yuuri threw one leg over Victor’s lap to straddle him, a look of contemplative determination etched across his face. The look Victor gave him in response was priceless.

 “Y-Yuuri.. ~--” He tried for for an explanation, but his interjection was drawn out into a breathy moan by another kiss. Just like the first, it’s start was curious; uncertain. But Yuuri quickly eased into the motions and soon boldly deepened the exchange with a swipe of his tongue. At that, Victor obediently parted his lips, allowing that prodding muscle to slip between them, all the while working his fingers up the line of Yuuri’s back.

It was guaranteed that Yuuri would fret about this later, but for the time being, he worked on giving Victor his best. As he caught the other’s lower lip between his teeth, he was rewarded with a tremulous moan and the sharp dig of fingernails into his side.

 He didn’t stop. He released Victor’s lip in favor of his tongue.

 A few moments later, when their lips finally pulled apart, Yuuri was panting. Attempting to catch his breath, he tipped his head back, but Victor was unabating and seized the opportunity to give proper attention to Yuuri’s now exposed neck.

 That attention was almost too much..

 Yuuri was rapidly losing the ability to focus which made it somewhat easier to ignore the initial warning of a spike in his body temperature. He was able to skirt on this dangerous edge of overheating until he fervently pleaded for Victor to _keep going_ …  

 It was a probably a mistake.

 Light pecks against his skin became longer-- lips lingering and pulling at one spot until Yuuri began to whimper.

 There would be marks; each left behind spot already throbbing as Victor continued to work up the curve of his neck before stopping just near his ear.

 “Yuuri...?” He breathed, pausing due to the fact the other had almost completely stopped moving.

 Yuuri barely managed to respond with the words ‘too hot’ before his vision started to go black.

 It was surprising how quickly Victor was able heft them both out of the water, doing his best to keep Yuuri mostly stable against him with one arm while he grabbed a nearby towel with the other.

 “You’re overheating” Victor’s voice was reassuring.

 Yuuri could already feel the stability returning to his legs, the biting air a refreshing break from the heat. Despite that, he kept an arm around Victor as they both headed back inside.

 It wasn’t until the door was shut behind them that Yuuri realized Victor didn’t have a towel. Or his clothes.

 “V-- Victor. You are cold.”

 “You’re worried ~ I’m fine. Are you alright?”

 Yuuri managed a nod.

 “You’re tired.” Victor laughed, hands idly working to continue drying Yuuri off with the towel. “I can’t drive you home ~”

 Yuuri panicked, stiffening as Victor draped the towel over his shoulders.

 “A--Ah! Ah… I’ll sleep on the couch! I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to become an inconvenience. Sorry! So sorry!!”

 “Mm.. You’re sure? The couch?”

 “I-I don’t need a bed! B-Bad. Unprofessional!”

 Victor pursed his lips for a moment, but eventually smiled as he began to lead Yuuri back through the house to the living room.

 “Do you need a blanket?” He mused, stooping to remove a few of the heavier pillows from the couch.

 “B-Blankets are for.. For wimps…”

 This time Victor chuckled and Yuuri abruptly realized that Victor was still in just his underwear.

 “I-I’ll be fine! You don’t have to do anymore!” He stammered, wobbling as he attempted to help Victor clear the couch, adamant to relieve Victor of his host duties as quickly as possible

 “No blanket. You’re sure?”

 There was a brief pause as Yuuri weighed his options. “You’re right… I’m a wimp.” He quietly murmured, silently admitting to himself that if he didn’t accept, he’d likely spend the night cold. He slumped into the couch.

 “Be right back!” Victor chimed.

 

He returned a few moments later with not only a blanket, but a sweatshirt as well.

 “Yuuri ~ If you need anything don’t hesitate to wake me up? Ok?” He tossed Yuuri the shirt before unfolding the blanket.

 “Mm… Mhmm”

 Yuuri struggled with properly pulling the sweatshirt over his head, but he eventually managed. When he was finished, Victor dutifully covered him with the blanket.

 “If you need me I will be in my room. I’ll leave the door open?”

 Yuuri nodded. He was much more exhausted than he had first thought. Laying down had made him acutely aware of that. It was becoming difficult for him to keep his eyes open.

Just as he began to truly lose the battle of staying conscious, Victor leaned in over the couch. The brush of fingers through his hair was brief, but Yuuri shuddered at the feeling.

 “Sleep well.” Victor breathed.

 “Mm… “ Yuuri nodded, lifting a hand to catch Victor’s just before it pulled away, shaking it sleepily.

 “You too.”

 

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apologize. Again. I need to stop trying to rush my writing otherwise I just end up unhappy with it ;; 
> 
> Anyways. Yay? They kissed?? Good? I have a great next chapter planned and I'm really excited to work on it. I'll warn now that it may take a little longer (I say that but I've been cranking these chapters out surprisingly fast.. ) due to school starting. 
> 
> As always, thanks again for the reads and the reviews and the wonderful compliments!!


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